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Participants:

Date:

2010.11.08

Location:

EW - Hallway

Synopsis:

Max runs into Zen and confronts him about why he’s been avoiding him. Talk takes an interesting turn.

Rating:

PG13

Logger:

Max

Through the hallways the bronzerider travels, for no particular reason or any reason that may be revealed. He is, however, deep in thought as he makes his way to his next destination, green eyes focused on the ground. His pace is slow, far more than usual as he is completely and utterly lost in his thoughts.

Boot falls herald the sound of two on approach coming in the opposite direction in which M’zen is traveling. Talking in low voices between each other, Max’s attention falls to the bronze weyrling, a quick word to Waine and then he breaks away from the big stablehand. “Zen,” the name given without query attached as he plants himself directly in the other’s path ensuring that he’ll either have to stop, or if he is of a mind to, go around him and continue on his way.

M'zen would likely keep walking… If he didn't hear his name. This causes him to come to a complete stop and stare at the man as if he doesn't know him. And then recognition dawns and he slowly allows a half-smile to tease upon his lips. "Max." Though this comes out softer than intended. He clears his throat and lifts a brow, casting a look at him. "How are you doing…?"

Max is silent at first, dark eyes casting an assessing look over the bronze weyrling, though his expression gives nothing away as to what he might be thinking. That brow lifted look is mirrored with one of his own as he answers on how he’s doing, “Doing well enough considering the man to whom I owe a debt of gratitude appears to have been avoiding me for the passed while. There something I should know?” Direct and to the point but given his extra burden of responsibility these days, he doesn’t have much time left for beating around the proverbial bush.

"Yeah." Zen starts, then rolls his shoulders in an easy shrug. "Ahni said that you didn't care 'bout the fences. The only real reason as to why I was avoiding you. Tuorth's been in a.. Mood." A mood full of dominance and dominating. Everything. Maybe that's why he's actually paying attention to lessons now. "Sorry."

Cue the brief eye roll, “For shard’s sake Zen, they’re just fences. ‘Sides, Jhath and Tuorth had valid reason to bust ‘em in.” A light frown forms, “Thought you knew me better than to think that would have been an issue between us.” As to his bronze being in a mood a soft snort spills out with a muttered, “Seems that’s the way of the Weyr these days.” With everyone being in a mood for some reason or another. Not that he’s exempting himself from that. And then with deep sincerity, “Thanks for saving her butt there, Zen.” Still not wanting to lend thought to what might have happened had the bronze weyrling not gotten there in time.

M'zen laughs, "well, shit, Max. You were gone and you came back to the Pens being a wreck. Tuorth was practically singing how he was going to make a river of the man's blood and he was trying to get through that door." He gives the other a look, lifting both brows and letting out a grunt. "Yeah.. Don't think they're like Tuorth…" He leaves it at that before nodding. "Not a problem. Shells… She needs constant watching with how she goes 'bout things. Damn near convinced me she didn't care for you anymore by going out and doing that…"

“Heh, those damn fences go down at least twice a month with the number of greenflights that go up around here,” Max delivers through wry amusement a hand lifting to his jaw to rub at it and then wincing slightly as fingers press against the purpling bruise there. “Thinking of maybe running a double line of fencing to at least stand a better chance of not having to round up herdbeast every other day.” A smirk of a dubious nature greets Zen’s comment on the moods of other’s not being like his bronze’s, giving simply, “You might be surprised.” But not adding any further to that for the bronze weyrling’s last draws a frown into place, the undamaged side of his mouth fitting around a discomforted line. “Aye, we…uhhh…had a disagreement before I left for the Reaches.” Understatement of the turn much? Smiling wrly, “Ahni’s…got a will of her own,” something he rather likes about the redhead and doesn’t look set to want to change about her. Then again, he’s not exactly the picture boy of yielding at times either.

"Well, good to know. Didn't want to be the only taking down those fences." Zen chuckles and then considers the man at the sight of the bruise. A brow lifts but he makes no comment on it, easily moving onto the topic of the fences once more. "Doubling might do some good. But it won't stop full grown dragons from breaking through 'em." There's a pause, sudden as his face slowly makes one of slight disgust before snapping out of his thoughts and focusing on the Beastmaster. "Big disagreement. Fuck, musta really pissed 'er off. All women have minds of their own, and they're going to use 'em if you tell 'em not to. Fuck, man. Stop pissing her off. She'll get me involved and then I'll be fucked."

If Max notices the bronze weyrling eyeing the bruise on his jaw, he’s not about to offer up any information either. Chances are the Weyr gossips are doing enough of a good job on that matter as it is. Hands set to pockets and shoulders lift and fall in a slight shrug, “Won’t stop the adults but if there’s good enough spacing between the two boundaries, they’re not likely to take both sets down at once.” Both brows go up and then eyes narrow onto Zen, his jaw tightening a little despite the bruising, “She needed help and didn’t know who else to call out to. But if it’s going to be an issue for you, I’ll be sure to ask her to reach out to W’red or someone else instead.”

M'zen chuckles, "yeah. That's true." The bronzerider letting out a soft snort at the thought before shaking his head. "Nah. I understand that. More than happy to help get her ass out. But she was talking to me about getting involved with something else…" He sighs, lifting a hand to run through his hair. "Pretty sure once my uncle or whatever he is finds out where I am… It won't be pretty."

Max goes still and the other man is set with a sharp look for his last, hands pocket and he rocks back on his heels a little. And then in a low tone that holds for little argument, "You and me are gonna need to have a sit down talk about just exactly what sort of shit you got yourself into and who's on your tail before it finds it's way down here. You don't tell me, I can't help you, Zen." Sometimes being the newly recognized renegade crime lord of the Southern continent has its perks. Not that the bronze weyrling or very many others around the Weyr are likely to be aware of the rise from simple beast manager to a man laid claim to such nefarious titles as he has recently done a few sevens ago.

M'zen grunts softly, "told you most of it before. He was looking to make it big. Broke away and kept my shit to myself and didn't give him what he feels he deserves, I imagine." He considers the other and then shrugs, "figure I disappeared well enough that it won't follow. But, with all that's going on. Can't tell you that someone might not recognize me if I don't keep my nose out."

Quiet for a good few moments, Max studies Zen closely, his expression unreadable and then slowly he nods, “Kelarad. The name mean anything to you?” Because if that happens to be who it is that the bronze weyrling is hiding from, he can be sure that sooner or later he’s going to be found given the alliance the beast manager now has in place with the Tillekian crime lord. Either way, “I need a name, Zen,” in order to know who’s attention might be pointing southward. And then stated carefully, “I’ve…recently found myself in a position that enables me…a bit more leaning room with regards to who comes down here sniffing around and who knows well enough to keep his nose out of my business.” His business?

M'zen grunts softly and shakes his head. "Ain't him." He does, however, know the name. "He ain't a big name. Motley crew… But, big 'nough where no one messes with them." He peers carefully at the Beastmanager, staring him down. "I see what you're doing." The corner of his lips twitches just a little fragment. "I want in." Though it doesn't matter if what he thinks is completely different than what is actually going on.

Brows hike high and Max fits Zen with a darkly amused smirk, “I’d call renegade crime lord of Tillek pretty fucking big, wouldn’t you?” But he leaves Kelarad and whatever ties he might now have to him there, returning the close study he’s being fit under with a deadpan expression and then another smirk peels into place, “What I’m doing?” Words of innocence despite the slightly mocking tone, “And what would that be now, hmm?” Not responding to the bronze weyrling wanting in just yet.

M'zen laughs, "nah. Not him, the uncle ain't that big. Kelarad is bigger than him, being that the uncle's name isn't too well known 'round many places. But, he doesn't work alone, either…" He trails off, giving the other a meaningful look. "Fixing to settle yourself a nice cushy seat right here in Southern. Like those in the North…" A pointed look is given to him, "you're going to need more than just a small handful of Southern under control… Figure if you've got a Weyr behind you…"

“Ah,” just that singular sound of understanding as Zen clarifies. Hands unpocket and Max folds his arms across his chest fitting the other man with a closed expression for the meaningful look and words that follow. Not copping to his position just yet a faint smirk traces out, “You planning on taking J’cobi out while he sleeps or something?” Not bothering to point out that he already has Randi’s backing no matter how grudgingly it might have been given, or that he’ll not stand for any harm coming to the current Weyrleader.

"Nah. Doesn't need to be violent. Just a matter of Tuorth being the fastest." Zen folds his arms across his chest and he snorts softly, "whether you want it or not. That's what we're doing." We, being the royal we (a bad habit picked up from Tuorth).

Loooong and intent the manner of attention being put onto Zen, with Max giving little away as to what he’s thinking about the matter as a whole. And then a brow hikes up high as the bronzer declares his decision of how it’s going to be, “Why?” And that can go to why he wants the position of Weyrleader so badly, or why it is that he thinks the beast manager doesn’t have a choice in the matter as to who he does or doesn’t have at his back.

"It is what we must strive for." Zen notes, "a proper Leader… Even if dictated by something so flimsy." The man tilts his head back, considering the ceiling above him for a long moment.

Again he’ll press with a firmer stated, “Why? What do you hope to achieve from taking on such a position?” As Zen considers the ceiling, Max considers the man before him with not more than a little skepticism starting to creep in and then states in troubled tone, “Ambition Zen…for the sake of power alone…is the surest route to being taken down by the next ambitious prick to come along.” Starting to become concerned about this sudden reach for the fancy knot coming from a man he thought he knew.

"To do something. I've not met the Weyrleader once and I've met the Weyrwomen plenty of times." Zen turns green eyes downwards, "I know… It isn't just for the sake of having it. Fucking stupid way to go 'bout that, would screw over the whole Weyr if I just wanted that knot for the sake of the knot."

Still considering Zen through a heavily contemplative and somewhat doubtful expression, Max eventually nods slowly, “Then you and me need to sit down to a serious talk some day sooner rather than later. When that bronze of yours sleeps.” Because he firstly doesn’t trust the dragonet to keep it’s yap shut and secondly, what he has to reveal to the bronzer might be more than the young bronze’s mind can take at this time.

M'zen gives Max a rather neutral look, perhaps in response to the doubtful expression. "We will. Soon…" Green eyes consider, though somewhat distant before he snorts. "I'll see you later, Max. Tuorth needs something." And with that, the bronzerider waves and starts off towards where his lifemate waits.

“Mmm.” Somewhat non-committal in response or perhaps it’s simply that this current topic of conversation has Max viewing the bronze weyrling in a new and uncertain light. “Later Zen,” dark eyes follow M’Zen, a heavily contemplative expression in place, until the blond man is gone from view and then the beast manager starts back on his path of earlier, a troubled expression in place.